


flawed enough but perfect

by XtaticPearl



Series: Like Lovers Do [2]
Category: Marvel 3490
Genre: Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-22 10:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19665637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: When she pulled him from the ice, Natasha Stark clearly hadn't counted on Steve Rogers choosing to stay in his new present and he hadn't expected her to change his future for good.





	1. Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/gifts).



> This is for the 3490fest and I couldn't resist pulling it into my interpretation of 3490 (if Marvel insists on turning MCU in a 616 then I get to pull my own 3490 too!)

Natasha caught sight of the cream cheese aisle and dragged her boots to a halt involuntarily. The strawberries looked tempting, decadent against the bed of soft, delicious and lovingly prepared -

"Strawberries? Really?"

\- mouthgasm that was clearly not meant for her. She turned her gaze from one delicacy to the decidedly less happy walking cheesecake standing beside her, now raising a blond brow at her expression. 

"It's not like anybody is allergic," she countered, ignoring the double-take of the man passing them both by, "I'm not sure Jen is actually allergic to anything. Also, it _is_ a berry."

"She's a lawyer," Steve looked far too amused for Tasha's bemusement, "Is that the best argument you'll give?"

"I just don't understand anybody's fascination with blueberries," she sighed at Steve's unimpressed look and gestured for them to trudge forward, bumping her elbow against his as they moved on, "Why didn't you change? Is it for the discount? Because I'm both impressed and also mildly offended that you get away with that."

"You dragged me off the field insisting that we get the cake before we go home," Steve reminded her as he neatly sidestepped a stray basket, shooting a quick glance his partner's way when she made a noncommitted sound, "Tell me again what the other option of the bet was?"

"A naked walk of fame," Natasha said cheerfully, neatly clapping a stunned Steve on the shoulder as she found the person she was looking for, "Hi! We'll need a couple of blueberry cheesecakes? Also some pies. Definitely a dozen."

The streets of Manhattan didn't stop for Natasha Stark driving home her best friend and teammate, who was still in uniform even if he had removed his helmet. They usually flew after a battle but Steve had insisted that they didn't fly with all the baked goods, though Tasha suspected it was just him being a sucker for the Audi. It was hilarious watching him pretend that his bike was a better companion than her cars, especially when he sulked every time she took anyone else for a test drive first. 

It would probably have been less amusing six years ago when she had first begun working with Captain America, both of them still smarting from their own revelations. 

"Did you talk to him about the idea?" she asked as they passed a blue sedan that boasted about being a heartbreaker in the back. The stereo was off and Steve was reading the battle report on his tablet but he hummed without looking up. "Hey," she called out, eyes on the road but catching his head coming up, "You know it's been a week since we last talked about it."

"It's not something we can decide for them," Steve exhaled slowly, shrugging a shoulder when she shot him a judging look, "They're together and it's not a secret, isn't that enough?"

"They've been together since I was a kid, that's not the point," she pointed at him with one finger, the other hand still on the steering, "The _point_ is that now they can legally do it. We've been waiting for years for this day and now that it's finally here - look, I just want them to be happy."

"And they are," Steve nodded, putting his tablet down calmly as he focused his attention on her, "You and I both know that, Tash, they're happy. God knows it hasn't been easy for them, and there's still a lot we don't know, but they _are_ happy. Making things 'official' isn't going to be the turning point for that."

"You did talk to him though, right?" she insisted because Steve made sense to himself and probably to the others but she had her own worries, "I can do it if -"

"We talked," Steve agreed, flexing his hand as he eyed the glove covering it. 

"And?"

"And you'll find out if he has a plan when he's ready."

"Sometimes I forget how much fun it is to talk to you, almost like hitting a wall," Tasha commented but rolled her eyes when he chuckled, "Seriously, I thought it'd be easier to recruit you for the job since, y'know, you both are similar -"

"We both have different experiences"

"- but then I remember that the similarities extend to stubbornness too," Tasha shot him a dry look but she knew that he could see the fond amusement in the tilt of her lips, "Do I promote Hope to my favorite person now, Steve? Is that what we're working towards?"

"Hope wouldn't need your help to fly," Steve replied without a pause and Tasha grinned. 

"You've finally realized the only reason you're my favorite," she cheered, laughing when he went back to his tablet with a prim clearing of his throat, "You still bought me strawberry cheesecake so it's okay!"

Avengers Mansion was the pride of the city, imposing and majestic in its glory from the outside. The legacy of the Starks had shifted from being tycoons to benefactors even when her father had been alive but Natasha hadn't been satisfied just staying in the woodworks, watching her friends save the world from behind the curtains. The armor had been called a copy, a showpiece, and a couple of more colorful tags that didn't stop her from hitting the workshop every day to fine-tune the red and gold shell to fly higher with every battle. 

Iron Woman had taken the superhero scene by storm with her first appearance and hadn't stopped since, almost a decade of constantly proving herself now. 

It was what had sparked off her equation with Captain America the day they had pulled him from ice, completely missing the mark from the calculations her dad had once been told the first time the world had hope of finding him. It had been an accident at best, the newly formed team looking for an amped up Betty Ross who had lost control as Red She-Hulk, trying to keep track of her in the middle of an ice storm. They hadn't found her but the armor had found the presence of a life-form buried deep under the ice and Tasha had gone in, protected against the cold to try to rescue the victim. 

It hadn't occurred to her that she would end up carrying a still-alive Captain America out, frozen and skin exuding pallor but somehow miraculously capable of being saved. 

"You can crash here tonight?" she offered later in the evening after they had appeased Jen with her bounty and the others had ended up in the rec room, probably to doze off watching something Jane had picked. Steve was still nursing the coffee he had managed to nick from her after her second cup, covering up his own tiredness with the explanation of making sure she wouldn't end up going sleepless again. The couch was comfortable under them, facing the window now instead of the projection screen. It was an old habit by now, watching the skyline of the city together in the quiet, sharing a snack or a beverage for the purpose of warmth and just letting the peace of a long day seep into their bones. Tasha hadn't really placed much value on doing nothing before, the itch to work and rework a familiar tune in her blood, but it was nice with Steve. They both had busy lives, names and images too big to be contained in vacations or holidays, so they caught moments of relaxation when they could. 

If it was in the conference room of a mansion looking over the darkening New York sky, there weren't many who could judge them. 

"I've got to talk to the new kid in 4B. He didn't exactly explain what help he needed when he stuck that note on my door."

"Rick Jones?" Tasha remembered him mentioning it a couple of days ago and Steve nodded as he drained the coffee in one gulp. 

"He comes in late and I don't see him in the morning so I figure I could talk to him tonight," he rolled his shoulder and Tasha turned in her seat to frown at his bitten off wince, "I'm fine, I'll ice it."

"I've got some new ideas on reinforcing the suit," she didn't comment on the bruised shoulder, rolling her ankles as her feet finally showed signs of fatigue, "Come by tomorrow? I don't want to rework this ten times before you tell me it doesn't suit you."

"I say that when you build jet packs into the suit," Steve huffed out a tired chuckle, getting to his feet with a brush of fingers over her shoulder, "Or when you turn my suit into an armor."

"The world would appreciate a flying Captain America," Tasha made a face as she stood up too, stretching her back lightly as she felt the knots scream, "And it would look cool."

"It already looks cool," Steve wrapped an arm over her shoulder with a cheeky look in his eyes as they turned to leave, "And I have enough aerial support for now."

"I'm changing my name to Cap Carrier," Tasha declared as they walked out of the room towards the elevator that would take Steve down to his bike. 

She wasn't a stranger to living alone but sometimes the thought hit her, a questioning coil in her gut when she came to an empty suite at night and didn't have a familiar face to talk to. The mansion was home to the entire team, anyone who chose to stay instead of returning to another abode, but there was always a wall between bedrooms and a line between friends. It wasn't the same for her to share a venting session with Rhodey over the phone when either of them encountered someone massively overrated in self-proclaimed intelligence as it would be to whisper aches and affections between the space of pillows to someone she could simply lie bare with - in a sense of the word deeper than the paparazzi would associate 'bare' with. She wasn't looking to warm her bed, not because that was futile because it had been her sole reputation for a while back then, but the sheets did look colder over the constant companion of silence they were getting used to. 

Natasha wasn't lonely, she wouldn't admit that out loud to a soul that knew the number of people she had in her life. She did, however, have moments when her hand felt like it was waiting for someone else's to interlock. 

Maybe it was cheesy and dramatic and a thousand other terms that had slid off her like water on a duck's back publicly. 

She didn't think much about it when she sent a quick text before sliding under the sheets, dropping one final command to JOCASTA before the lights dimmed to a soft glow. 

It was fine. She had others to worry about for now. 


	2. Today

The orange sherbet carnations dipped into the vase, dangerously tipping over the rim under the hasty handling of their recipient. They were eclectic, wild in their beauty, and Steve imagined a few tucked in the bun of a freewheeling painter who was out to capture a volcano's love on an unfortunately blank canvas. 

It was an imagery that he associated with the person who had gifted these to him, and Steve wasn't sure which part of the picture he likened to Natasha. The artist or the volcano that would dazzle them. 

_ For yesterday,  _ the card read, now lying closed on the table he stood beside,  _ I did not think you’d be an expert schmoozer but Jen hasn’t murdered me yet and yet again you managed to stave off the catastrophe. Thanks, Winghead! _

Steve scratched at his forehead, droplets from the vase clinging to his fingers and dampening his brow, feeling the silence of the room impose upon him more prominently than it had before the flowers had arrived. He was due to be at the Mansion in an hour but she had still seen it right to get them to him before they could meet again. 

He wasn't really sure how he would have reacted if she had given it to him in person, so it was probably for the best. 

The clock on the wall showed 5 minutes to eight but his pulse ticked a beat faster than the second's hand, a nervous thrum flushing his cheeks as he turned to go change one more time. There was nothing wrong with a simple brown button-down but it had been six years since he had staunchly resisted bending to the new world's fashion terms and sensibilities. A touch of teal never hurt anyone and maybe a complimenting jacket would be in demand too. He eyed his reflection in the dark-framed mirror, narrowly resisting the urge to try a new hairstyle, before picking up the bike keys. 

The journey to Avengers Mansion had gotten considerably shorter since he had agreed to be dragged to Brooklyn from D.C and Steve wouldn't admit it to many but it felt good knowing that he had people close enough to visit. A voice tinged with exasperation reminded him that he would have it even closer if he ever got around to accepting Tasha's offer of moving into the Mansion for good but Steve tuned it out of his head for the moment. The traffic was uncaring of a thoughtful rider and the cacophony of strangers driving past him gave background to his reflections of the past few years, more importantly, the past few days. 

It was an odd introspection, imagining yourself get married, even if it was an older version of you. 

The Mansion's parking base was quiet when he reached, the presence of an ever-present AI keeping a check on security concerns that would have otherwise swarmed them the way SHIELD functioned. His eyes caught sight of a familiar car, dark power molded in a sleek design, and he calculated that they would have guests today. He was half-way to the elevator when his phone rang and he quirked his lips even as he answered it. 

"I'm almost -"

"I think we need a Skrull check," Tasha said bluntly, making Steve tense as he entered the elevator and hit the button for the common floor. JOCASTA hadn't sounded an alert yet but if Tasha was calling for a Skrull check - his free hand curled around the portfolio slung over his shoulder. 

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly, calculating the best plan of attack even as his eyes tracked the floor numbers as the elevator moved. 

"What's wrong?" Tasha echoed, a subtle chord of repressed adrenaline coming through her voice, "What's wrong is you not telling me that he was going to _announce_ the wedding _date_ , Steven. That's what's wrong. I need to verify if you're a Skrull because if not I need to kick your ass."

Steve relaxed as the doors opened and he saw the group in various stages of excitement gathered around the sitting area. His eyes gravitated towards Tasha and she unerringly caught his gaze, looking distinctly unimpressed in her maroon suit that indicated that she had either just come back from SI or was on her way there soon. 

"You," Tasha pointed at him, still speaking into the phone as she took a few steps forward, "You are officially demoted from being my favorite person. Permanently."

"For a fan of surprises, you're being a spoilsport," he pulled the phone away from his ear as he walked and glanced at it before looking at her, "Why are we still on the phone?"

"Because someone's pissed at you," Hope said helpfully from her spot near Jane, an amused grin on her face as she shot Steve a two-fingered salute at his look, "Just saying it as I see it, Cap. At least she's not challenging you to pick up your shield and go a few rounds again. That was iconic."

"That was all his fault," Tasha nodded at the amused guest still being congratulated by an enthusiastic She-Hulk. Steve nodded at the man who looked happy, more so than Steve suspected he had seen himself look in a reflection, and the thought was less bittersweet than just relieving now. It had been years since he had come to terms with their new reality, with everything that had led to his own existence in the present and all that the world wouldn't know about secrets that held his visage. 

Steve was glad that the universe had found a way to grant happiness to those who had fought their way towards it. It was the least that they deserved. 

"They wanted to surprise you," Steve explained as he came closer into the room, a few feet away from Tasha who was still holding on to the mask of being annoyed, "Hey, at least I did talk as you asked me to, right?"

"You suck," she maintained but Steve watched her face break into a grin finally, ducking the hand that came up to pound him in the back, "But I'm in a good mood today and you can make it up to me by helping me plan this whole thing."

"I distinctly remember the words 'simple' and 'quiet' being worked into the idea," the groom sitting on the couch beside Jan commented, dark brown eyes twinkling as he glanced between his fiancé and Tasha, "Something tells me it won't work well with you, Anastasia."

"You try letting someone else plan this," Tasha shot an all-teeth grin that would have been menacing if the man hadn't known her since childhood, "And I'm perfectly capable of keeping things simple."

Steve kept his poker face up when she looked at him for support but raised his hands in surrender when she raised a brow.

They did keep the plan simple in the end, deciding to have a quiet ceremony in the Mansion itself with Janet insisting that she would officiate the thing. Nobody objected though Steve did note the tinge of sadness fleeting in the older Wasp's eyes as she shared her joy with her long-time friends. Things weren't clear about why Hank wasn't coming around anymore and Tasha had known Hope longest on the team so Steve trusted her when she said that it wasn't something the family wanted to discuss yet. Families were a tricky subject for most of the heroes he knew and they made the best of what they had, which was one of the reasons why Steve had always found it easier to be close to those he went into battle with, those who shared that kinship with him. 

If there were other reasons that others mentioned, especially regarding one particular teammate, that was a line of thought he hadn't picked up with focus. Friends had always been a hard-earned part of his life, even before the ice, and Steve had been through his share of musings about what it would take for them to cross over that line of friendship into anything else. There was a level of trust that ran deeper with those you had shared life experiences with, and it wasn't odd then that Steve entertained his imagination of wondering how things had panned out for him in another story. 

As he sat beside the man in question, watching Tasha pull the man's partner along to go iron out some details of a project she was working on with the reactor, Steve felt the same wave of nostalgia and wonder hit him. 

"You really did keep it a secret," his older companion looked amused as he glanced at his phone before looking at Steve with eerily familiar eyes, "I'm almost glad I didn't take Tony's bet about it."

"Almost?" Steve raised a brow, the glass of smoothie that had been thrust into his hand still full, "And I'm not that bad at keeping secrets. Am I?"

"The fact that you just questioned it makes it your answer," Steve shook his head at the knowing laughter, "It's not a bad thing, trust me. Besides, I've seen her ferret out tougher things from more tightlipped crowds so you did well."

"I'm glad you guys decided this," Steve's eye caught the glint of the silver ring and he glanced up, "Is it strange if I say I'm proud of you?"

"Maybe, but I've seen stranger," the answer would have been an evasion on anyone else but it was a simple truth here, "It's nice to finally think about calling him my husband instead of fiancé, yes, but I think we're both gladder that we got to see this time again. It's - I guess it's like the world telling us that the good repeats itself too, even if the bad is all we think will."

Steve nodded, taking a sip of the smoothie and grimacing at it, much to the amusement of his audience. 

"I honestly don't know why she insists on trying these," he confided even as his grimace shifted into a fond look as he risked another sip, "It's almost as bad as my cooking."

"You're a matched duo in that," the agreement was prompt but there was a beat of silence when Steve noted the expression turn more pensive, a quick struggle of thoughts that was easy to detect for him. 

"Is there something you need to talk about?" he asked, placing the glass on the coffee table before them. 

"I don't know if I should," Steve frowned lightly but his companion shook his head, "It's not bad, I promise. It's not even something I should be interfering in but -"

"But?"

"Are you two going to try?" Steve's expression must have been confused when the questioned was elaborated, "Being together with each other the way you want to, I mean."

Steve remembered the first time he had encountered the paradox of this world, this new reality he had woken up to on a Helicarrier. There had been a talking robot, a miniature flying woman, an actual Norse god, and a litany of shocks that hadn't stopped coming with every turn. None of it had been as hard as seeing himself in the face of a more accepting man, a name so similar yet different from his own. And that was before he had come to face the idea of _why_ that fact existed, or more clearly _whom_ it came to be because of. 

Maybe there was always a world where a Steve Rogers changed for a flying armored soul. Maybe that was a constant in the ever-changing universe and it was how they read each other, these darkest and deepest lit secrets that wouldn't come out when the time was favorable. 

"Ah," Steve didn't look up at the quiet exclamation, choosing to stare at the condensation gathering at the bottom of the glass, "So you're playing the 'you first' game."

"Tell me again how you two got together?" Steve knew he was being testy but the other man didn't mind. He wouldn't have to, knowing Steve's tells. 

"Well, if you want to spend an entire lifetime waiting to get to that point of happiness, sure," the tone wasn't condescending, a matter-of-fact calmness to it, "But if that's not on the menu you want, you could try changing things up."

Steve stayed silent when he felt a hand on his shoulder, the pressure firm but gentle in understanding. 

"You're not me, Cap," the hand squeezed his shoulder before pulling away, "Don't wait till your story resembles mine."

Steve picked up the glass and gulped down the smoothie as a Nomad left to find his way back to his home. 

Maybe someday that would be him, he considered, and eyed the empty glass with fragile hope. 


	3. Tomorrow

The day of the wedding came with all the normalcy of a June morning in Manhattan, the streets blissfully unaware of what was to transpire in the halls of the Avengers Mansion. The guest list had been minimal on the insistence of the grooms and Steve had vetted it after the first screening by JOCASTA. There was no announcement to the world, not yet and the decorations that Tasha had managed to sneak into the plan despite posed hurdles were tasteful. 

Steve had last seen her handling three calls at once as she dragged Jane along to deal with a minor matter at Baxter building, and had taken over the preparations after calculating the time it would take them to return after they cleaned up whatever mess Doom had sprung up on Reed. The blue and gold decor along the arches and walls of the ballroom that usually opened only for parties looked reflective of two distinct personalities finding a way to mesh together. He checked his phone and sent a reminder message to Tasha before finding his way to his room to get ready himself. 

He had slipped into the steel grey vest when he heard his phone chime, the alert tone specific for Tasha's texts. 

_I'm on my way, wait for me,_ he read and the screen was lit by another message to follow it, _Seriously, wait._

"Okay," he considered the message for a minute before letting the phone fall back onto the bed and getting back to his suit. Whatever it was, he'd find out when she came back, and if it was something bad - they could handle it. He would always have her back, no matter what, and this couldn't be an exception. 

He was reading Rhodey's copy of _Windhaven_ when there was a knock on his door and Steve knew the pattern, the tap code of three beats that would reveal Tasha anywhere. He placed the book on the side table and rose, walking to the door to pull it open and reveal -

Huh.

"What?" Tasha looked down at herself and then back at Steve, an appreciative look in her eyes as she took him in, "You look good, is that the suit I recommended?"

"Yeah, thanks," he found his voice and firmly didn't think about the way Tasha clearly resembled a modern knight in her blue suit trimmed with gold that matched the buttons on her shirt, "You look nice too."

"Yeah?" Tasha grinned, tilting her chin higher as she looked over Steve's shoulder, "That's good to know. Can I come in for a minute?"

Steve moved to let her in and was completely conscious of his own skin, of the air that always got tighter whenever his consciousness blared awareness into his mind that his eyes didn't have any intention of looking away from Natasha. Now, as she looked around his room, standing in the sharply tailored suit of Steve's colors mixed with hers, the knowledge beat incessantly under his pulse. 

"Tash?" he prompted when she didn't speak for a minute and she turned around, meeting his gaze head-on. 

"So, I've been thinking about something and I considered ignoring it but I figure I can't go completely wrong if I acknowledge it anyway -"

"Natasha"

"Do you want to date me?" she asked and Steve felt his mouth shut, "Or me to date you? Mutual dating is the preferred plan, just saying."

"This - is this coming out of nowhere?" Steve heard himself ask as his mind went into overdrive, categorizing every shift of Tasha's eyes and hands, "Did you talk to someone?"

"Should I have?" she asked with a sharp assessing look before shaking her head, eyes softening as she let her lips curl into the smallest of grins, "Nope. This is all me. Though I can't say that I've not heard everyone hint that I should think about it, this time it's all me. Is that okay? You look like you've been shot."

The first time Steve had acknowledged that Natasha Stark was a force to reckon with, she had called him a hypocrite in the same breath as going toe to toe with the WSC for trying to bind him to their red tape. They had known each other for a week and Steve had still been dealing with an unused well of anger inside him, avoiding the help of those who probably did understand him better than he gave them credit for. Natasha hadn't been close to the list of people he felt particularly kind towards, especially after she had bluntly asked him if she needed to find a time machine to put him back where he belonged. They had been a mess of proportions the team hadn't felt charitable enough to handle. 

When he had seen her defend him to a bunch of powerhouses who weren't quite confident of his opinions on certain issues, he had blustered but she hadn't backed down. That was the first time somebody had reminded him of the human part of being a hero; the tangled knots of courage despite chaos and honor in spite of hollowed morals. Natasha had been the last person he would have called a friend then but she had become the first person he would call that now, unflinchingly and always. 

She was his partner and he was always proud of that. 

That pride bled through now, past the shock and bewildering mess of emotions. The bravest weren't those who always did the safest thing; they were those who did what needed to be done to reach a point where edges could be softened, where homes could be built on smoothed out soil. It took that bravery to go after what you could have and Natasha had always shown him that. To see that directed at him, the focus and path of that hope coming his way, Steve felt the first tendrils of clarity seep in. 

"It's okay," he replied, letting out a breathless chuckle that had her smiling wider, "It's okay, I'm just processing."

"How long will that take?" she tilted her head, eyes crinkling with glee tempered by fondness, "Because I've got a wedding to catch and I was wondering if we could start by going to it."

"Together?"

"No better way," Tasha declared, eyes bright and Steve could see the happiness radiate from her. He hadn't said yes yet but she looked jubilant, as though the very act of offering love and affection was enough to spark joy. 

Steve wanted to taste that joy, share it in his soul and learn it by touch. He wanted to see if it could get any brighter, to make it more than it was in this moment. 

Maybe he could. Maybe he could do that just as she was doing it for him. 

"Yes," he answered and held out a hand, fitting the spaces between his fingers with Natasha when she slid her palm onto his. 

They walked into the wedding of Captain Stevens and Doctor Potts as a new beginning. 

Turned out, things _could_ get happier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story happens in the verse of Hands Out In The Dark (the earlier fic in this series).

**Author's Note:**

> The requirements and prompt were -  
> Likes: Fluff, Pining, hurt/comfort, soulmates, teamwork/team as family.  
> Dislikes: Bashing, Hydra!cap, all hurt no comfort, non-con, torture.  
> Prompts: Didn't know they were dating, Soulmates AU, Vacation goes awry, Trying new hobbies together, They get a day off!


End file.
